Fall Frenzy 2023 -- Pepo's Escape

 

Pepo's Escape

By Elizabeth Muster

Word Count 200

Pepo and the other pumpkins gathered among the hay bales behind the shed as Gourdon took his place upon the stump. Pepo admired the self-proclaimed leader, who was ripe with knowledge and brandished with cuts and bruises. Pepo was the youngest and smallest, and unsurprised when the others voted him to go into the pie this year. 

As the others returned to the patch, Pepo hid among the hay bales to hatch an escape plan. Pumpkins turning into carriages only happened in fairy tales. Just when Pepo thought his anxious insides would turn to mush, the boy came  with his bag of newspapers. He spotted Pepo, picked up the pumpkin, and placed it, too, into the basket. Pepo bounced along until the bike stopped at a house where the boy handed Pepo – and a newspaper – to a pretty, pig-tailed girl. 

Overjoyed by the present, the girl went inside and got to work. The strokes of her brush tickled Pepo’s thick skin. When she sat Pepo on the front porch, he felt ridiculous with his new goofy grin, wide eyes, and crooked nose. But despite it all, he straightened his stem a little taller. He had escaped the knife twice today! 

 

Valentiny 2022

I'm pretty PROUD of my little story for Susanna Leonard Hill's 7th annual Valentiny story. I've never seen a story about a conversation heart -- especially not one that doesn't have a message...YET.  

 Pinky’s Message

By Elizabeth Muster   

WC 210

Pinky wasn’t like the other conversation hearts in the box. In fact, she was starting to wonder if she was a conversation heart at all. All the others had a message – she didn’t. 

When Blue squealed, “CALL ME!” Pinky didn’t say a word. 

“Come on. Why won’t you talk?” 

Pinky just shrugged. She liked calm and quiet. Blue and the others were loud. 

When Yellow offered HUGS, Pinky shook her head. 

“We could be friends,” Yellow said. 

Pinky couldn’t explain why, but she wanted her space. 

Pinky scooted to the opposite cardboard corner, drawing pictures in the sugar dust 

until Purple stepped in the middle of her art.

“BE MINE!” Purple said. 

Pinky didn’t know what to do. She definitely did not want to be around pushy Purple.    

“BE MINE!” Purple said again. “Come on, Pinky. You don’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day, do you?” 

“ENOUGH,” said Pinky.

Pinky’s voice startled Purple. It even surprised Pinky herself.

“What did you say to me?” asked Purple. 

“ENOUGH,” repeated Pinky with power. 

Purple stomped away.

Relieved but shaken, Pinky penned the word across her front in red ink. 

She had had ENOUGH.

Pinky wore her new message proudly. 

It was calm and quiet but strong…just like Pinky.

She was ENOUGH.

 

For this year's Halloweensie contest, Susanna Leonard Hill's mandatory words were glow-in-the-dark, goosebumps, and goodies. So I kept going with the alliteration and came up with a little something. Enjoy!

 It’s Halloween (WC 95)

As autumn arrives

Apparitions aren’t afraid

Of the afterlife anymore.

Aha!

It’s Halloween.

Cadavers cackle

and corpses creep

From cemetery crypts.

Keep calm!

It’s Halloween.

Demons in the darkness

And devils in disguise 

Dredge up dreadful deeds.

Don’t despair!

It’s Halloween.

Glow-in-the-dark goblins

And ghosts in gowns

Give goosebumps, not goodies.

Goodness gracious!

It’s Halloween.

Mummies masquerade

In the mysterious moonlight

Among a mausoleum.

Oh my!

It’s Halloween.

Scary skulls 

And spine-chilling specters

Startle superstitious spirits.

So spooky!

It’s Halloween.

Terrible tricks

And terrific treats 

Thrilling times on the thirty-first.

That’s a wrap!

It’s Halloween.

Fall Frenzy 2021

Thanks to Kaitlyn Sanchez and Lydia Lukidis, I wrote a little something for this year's Fall Frenzy. This piece is very different from what I usually write. But like me, it's short and moody -- ha, ha.  It's based on this image:

Halloween- Credit: Samantha Hurley / Burst

The Tortured (WC98)

The tattooed arm lunged through the darkness wielding a rusty blade.

The man dragged me across the field and into the abandoned shed.

My scream was lost in the pitch-black night as his knife dug through my cranium

-- deeper and deeper -- into my soul. Time after time, he jabbed through my tough exterior,

spilling my guts onto the splintered table. Then he deliberately carved out my eyes and slit

my nose. One by one he knocked out my teeth.

Fortunately, I felt no pain, even as he set fire to my body.

Halloween is torture for a pumpkin.  

Henry Hedgehog Finds a Home

Mix 'n' Match #1

 https://susannahill.com/2021/05/10/here-we-go-again-mix-n-match-mini-writing-challenge-take-2/

Mix ‘n’ Match #1

Henry Hedgehog Finds a Home

by Elizabeth Muster

Used to Henry liked to roam

Now he wants a comfy home.

First he met some porcupines.

They looked like him with their spines.

“We’re much bigger, can’t you see?”

“So you don’t have room for me?

Can I sleep here just one day?

I’ll curl up out of the way.”

When night came he left again

At a barn he wandered in.

“Who might you be?” asked the horse.

“Henry, a hedgehog, of course.” 

“I know some hogs. Come with me.”

“We aren’t the same. Can’t you see?”

“While you’re here, eat fruit with us.”

“That is nice, so I won’t fuss.”

Down the hill he found a plot.

Leaves, branches, the perfect spot.

In the soil he burrowed deep.

Eighteen hours he did sleep.

After ‘while he found a mate

Six weeks later there were eight.

Henry would no longer roam.

He had finally found his home.

Beach Clouds

 Mix ‘n’ Match #5

https://susannahill.com/2021/06/07/2021-mix-n-match-mini-writing-challenge-week-5/

Concept = Weather

Location = Beach

Beach Clouds (WC 235)

By Elizabeth Muster

When we came to the beach, I hoped it would be sunny every day. But there were always some clouds in the sky.

On Monday, there were thin, white clouds. Mom called them cirrus clouds. Even though it’s warm at the beach, she said cirrus clouds are made of ice crystals. It looks like someone painted them with a thin brush of white paint onto the bright blue sky. It was a great day to be outside. 

On Tuesday, there were big, puffy piles of white clouds in the sky. Big brother says these are cumulus clouds. They are made of warm air and water droplets that reflect the sun. He says there will still be good weather today.

But on Wednesday morning the clouds were dark grey. We could not go to the beach because there was lightning, thunder, and rain. Dad says weather like this comes from nimbus clouds. They are a mixture of warm air and cool water. We stayed inside and watched movies and played games. 

On Thursday morning it was hard to see the beach through the fog. Big sister says those are stratus clouds that happen when the air gets warmer. Eventually the thick blanket lifted and we could go play. I was glad since today was our last day of vacation.

As we drove home on Friday, I watched out the window for the different types of clouds.

Little Star with a Big Attitude

 Susanna Leonard Hill's

Mix 'n' Match #4

https://susannahill.com/2021/05/31/2021-mix-n-match-mini-writing-challenge-week-4/

Little Star with a Big Attitude

by Elizabeth Muster

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

Hey, who are you calling little?

I’m not little. Blackberries are little.

I rival the size of your planet, Earthling.

How I wonder what you are.

What am I? What are you?

I’m simple. Hydrogen and helium.

You’re bunch of mixed up elements.

Up above the world so high.

True. I’m light-years away from you.

Even a spaceship couldn’t reach me.

I’m so much farther away than the moon.

Like a diamond in the sky.

Okay, I get it. I light up. You don’t.

I’m not a gem in a necklace.

I shine because I'm nuclear.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star

All right, all right. I twinkle. I’m a star.

Sing a song about me if you want.

But if you want a wish, go pluck a daisy.

The Unicorn's Horn

Susanna Leonard Hill's

Mix 'n' Match #3

https://susannahill.com/2021/05/24/2021-mix-n-match-mini-writing-challenge-week-3/

The Unicorn's Horn

by Elizabeth Muster

Uni was ever forlorn

As he’d sadly lost his horn

He wore a pink party hat

So none could discover that.

He went to the ice cream shop

The cone wouldn’t stay on top.

He borrowed a traffic cone;

He should have left it alone.

He begged a rhinoceros,

Who really put up a fuss.

Almost convinced an odd whale,

But the narwhal did prevail.

He found an old horn to toot,

That was the wrong kind -- oh shoot!

He stomped his hoof in dismay

A mare came over his way.

“Why must you throw such a fit?

You’re beautiful without it.”

Then Uni realized, of course,

That he was simply a horse.

https://gifer.com/en/GxE

The Egg Hunt

By Elizabeth Muster

WC 144

Henrietta the hen peck-peck-pecked impatiently at Easter Bunny’s door. ““My egg is missing!”  

“Well,” Easter Bunny wiggled his nose. “I usually hide the eggs, but I’ll help you look.” 

They picked through Pig’s trough. His egg was plastic.  

They checked Cat’s bed. Her egg was chocolate.

They headed to Horse’s stall and discovered a bright pink basket with a white egg. 

“Where did you find this egg?” Easter Bunny questioned Horse.

“In the hen house,” replied Horse.

“That is not an Easter egg,” Henrietta clucked. “That’s my egg!”

Horse whinnied. 

The egg rattled.Then it cracked.

A little beak and yellow feathers popped through the shell. “Peep!”

“My baby!” exclaimed Henrietta. 

Horse hung his head. “I just wanted to find an egg like everyone else.”

The fluffy baby chick hopped onto Horse’s nose.

“I think you’ve found something even better,” said Easter Bunny. “A friend.”

 Yesterday I entered #PBParty. Today I'm entering the story below to Vivian Kirkfield's #50PreciousWords. Thursday is #PitMad, and some time this week or next I'm going to email my 12x12 Gold query to Charlotte Wenger. Woah! And did I mention I'm working full time and have a 5-year-old? So thankful for the encouragement from my CPs and the support of my husband. 

Sorry, Snowman

By Elizabeth Muster

Your body’s rather lumpy.

Your head’s not very round. 

I only had one branch. 

No carrots could be found. 

My dad took his scarf back. 

Mom snatched her favorite glove.

Today’s high is forty.

There are no clouds above.

I won’t forget you, Snowman.

For today you have my love.

I had high hopes for February. I never heard a word from Author Mentor Match. I didn't get any love on PBPitch. My Valentiny story was not a finalist. The only thing I know for certain at this point is that if I quit, I will never get published...and I still find writing fun, so I may as well keep at it! I have written two full manuscripts during these snow days!

Haikus on being a Writer

I feel like a fraud

A middle-aged white woman

Writing cutesy scripts

How do I become

The author every agent wants

Who writes good stories

Teaches them something

Gets readers to laugh out loud

Makes them love reading 

The next Kate Messner

Maybe Kate DiCamillo 

While still being me

W-R-I-T-E for Each Other

 

 

W-R-I-T-E for Each Other -- 213 words

by Elizabeth Muster

Valentiny 2021

Zane the Zombie cut a heart from red construction paper. He smiled as he wrote the word “Happy.” He wrote V-A-L. Then he frowned. Did E come next or did I? Zane crumpled the heart and threw it away. 

“Why celebrate Valentine’s Day when your heart doesn’t beat?” a classmate asked. “Halloween is the only holiday for me.” 

But it was February 14, and Zane wanted Zelda to know how he felt. Zelda had pale skin and yellow eyes and smelled wonderfully of rotten meat. She was the best at scaring humans from the playground during recess. 

With a shaky hand, Zane made another heart. This time he wrote, “You look like death wormed over.” 

He was pleased until the classmate looked over Zane’s shoulder. “You didn’t even spell it right.” 

The words seemed to wriggle, and Zane couldn’t decide which one was misspelled. Bravely, he gave Zelda the valentine anyway.

“Thank you,” said Zelda. “I have a valentine for you too.”  The card read: You can’t scar me.

“It’s perfect,” said Zane. He and Zelda showed their valentines to the teacher.

“I think you two are just W-R-I-T-E for each other,” she said with a smile.

“What’s that spell?” asked Zane.

“Write,” said the teacher. 

“Right.” Zane smiled.

 “I agree,” said Zelda.

So last night's conversation with husband went pretty much like this...

If I get published, I'm going to thank you in the acknowledgements for putting up with a messy house and microwavable dinners. 

When you get published, I'm still going to be living in a messy house and eating microwavable dinners. 

Well...I'm going take that as encouragement...and he does have a point.

While I didn't get selected for #AuthorMentorMatch, I do get to proudly display -- 

And yes, some of my ideas did come while playing Animal Crossing with my daughter.  But I have 50!  That's quite a difference from last year where I fizzled out after a week. Wonder where that notebook even ended up?

I'm gearing up for next week's #PBPitch. I'm drafting a Valentiny story. I'm trying to keep this writing momentum going. Not going to let rejections get me down. Because I've got some AWESOME critique partners on both the MG and the PB front.  

Here's something that makes my reader-writer-librarian heart happy. Today during StoryStorm I learned about #Haikufromtwo. The challenge was to take two words from the text I'm currently reading and form a haiku. Of course, being the middle-schooler-at-heart that I am, I didn't follow the directions. All of my words come from pages 217-218 of the recently-named Newbery Award Winner When You Trap a Tiger by Tae Keller.  I think this would be a great challenge in the library for April -- Poetry Month!

Trapping a Tiger

by Elizabeth Muster

Halmoni, tiger

Jittery disappointment

Sweet-sour dragon

I had decided I was too busy to write something for Susanna Leonard Hill's 10th Annual Holiday Contest.  Then, on Saturday morning my daughter said, "I want to get you a robot for Christmas so you have more time to play with me." Ding! There was my inspiration for a holiday helper. Here is what Maddie and I wrote together in less than 250 words. Afterwards we played Barbies -- of course!

 Momma’s Helper

By Elizabeth Muster and 5-year-old Maddie Muster

Word Count 240

On a Saturday morning in early December, Maddie ran into the kitchen and tugged on Momma’s shirt. “Will you play Barbies with me?”

“Not right now,” Momma replied. “I’m fixing breakfast.”

After the meal, Maddie asked if they could watch a holiday movie together. “Maybe later,” Momma said. “I need to clean up first.”

While Maddie watched her tablet instead, a video gave her an idea. “Momma, could we go visit Santa?”

“After I finish folding the laundry,” Momma said. 

That afternoon, Maddie anxiously stood in line to see St. Nick. “What are you going to ask for?” Momma asked. 

“It’s a surprise,” Maddie said.

When it was Maddie’s turn, Santa Claus asked what she wanted for Christmas. Wisps of Santa’s hair tickled Maddie’s nose as she whispered in his ear, “A robot that can do Momma’s chores.”

“Oh, ho, ho,” Santa retorted. “What a nice idea. I’ll see what my elves and I can do. But who will help your mom between now and Christmas morning?”

Maddie knew the answer. It wasn’t a robot. It wasn’t an elf. It wasn’t even Santa himself.

The next morning at breakfast, Maddie set the table. After they finished eating, Maddie put the plates and silverware in the dishwasher.

“Thank you, Maddie.” Momma smiled. “There must be something special you’re wanting. I bet it’s that secret you told Santa.”

Maddie nodded and gave Momma a big hug. “It’s time for us to play!”    

When I went to post my Halloweensie story for Susanna Leonard Hill's 10th annual contest, I realized I hadn't posted anything since the Valentiny one. Which, unfortunately, is an accurate portrayal of my writing life. Since the start of the Covid pandmic, I haven't been able to focus on anything but reality. My creativity is next to nothing.  But I'm trying to put myself back out there.  

I've been reading Brene Brown's "Dare to Lead," and I'm finding it calling me to "Dare to Write" again.  In Part 1, the author quotes Amy Poehler and puts my whole writing conundrum into perspective.

"It's very hard to have ideas. It's very hard to put yourself out there, it's hard to be vulnerable, but those people who do that are the dreamers, the thinkers, and the creators. They are the magic people of the world." ~Amy Pohler, Smart Girls: Ask Amy   

So here is a story...albeit less than 100 words. I'm also looking for guidance in revising some of my works in progress.  I signed up for a picture book mentor through SCBWI-Midsouth, and I'm anxiously awaiting feedback. I'm staying hopeful for #Pitchwars, and last week I entered #PBcritique fest. 

Here's me being a dreamer, a thinker, and a creator. Here's me being vulnerable. Good luck to all the word wizards out there.  Keep being magical!   

Haunting at Home

By Elizabeth Muster

WC 99

No bones about it, Governor Goblin’s pandemic regulations were tough on every body.

Without ears or a nose, skeleton Kay Daver couldn’t wear a mask in public. 

Mummy Dearest desperately needed new dressings, but the mortals had bought out the toilet paper...again. 

Their ghoul-friend Ghostie was in quarantine with a temperature of 42.3.

This year the fiends would have to haunt their own houses instead of creeping along the streets. 

So Kay, Mummy, and Ghostie spent October 31st on Zoom telling human stories and scaring each other. 

It was definitely different, but Halloween 2020 was still spooktacular.